


Here (In Your Arms)

by lookingforatardis



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: AU, First Date, Fluff, High School AU, Holding Hands, M/M, Teenagers, because apparently that's all i do now, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforatardis/pseuds/lookingforatardis
Summary: lil prompt: high school charmie, first date w/ hand holding and softnessIt is exactly what it sounds like, folks.





	Here (In Your Arms)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cumpeachx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumpeachx/gifts).



> Cumpeachx gave me this prompt and i immediately thought of this song (that the fic is named after) and wrote this monster. It's unedited, but I love it. enjoy!

Armie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his hands shaking uncontrollably. _Maybe I won't be able to drive, what if they're shaking so hard I can't even drive?_ The light turns green and he bites back the nerves to press his foot against the pedal, looks at the street sign, bites his lip, turns.

It had been an impulse, really. He wasn't sure where the confidence even came from, but he'd blurted it out so fast that he couldn't take it back. Timmy had been wearing a multicolored knit top that kept crawling over his hands when he'd bite his lip and Armie couldn't stop staring even when Timmy caught him and smiled warmly, cheeks red, his voice earnest when he asked under the hush of study hall, _"What's up?"_

So really, Armie couldn't be blamed for wondering what it would be like to push the sleeves up and over Timmy's hand to warm it himself, or to tuck the strands of curls behind his ears where they escaped his best efforts to keep them off his face. His eyes somehow built off the blues and greens in his sweater, even the reds and orange and yellow until he was just warm and safe and maybe Armie wanted something in that moment to feel _safe_ and held because his voice came out without him even realizing what was happening, a quiet and shaky, _"Go out with me,_ " out into the airwaves.

Timmy had frozen, his eyes widening, hands halted in their nervous twisting of his fabric. _"Are you serious?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Oh my god, okay, yeah."_ And Armie smiled, and Timmy smiled, nodded, lip between his teeth as the teacher told them they only had ten more minutes, spent restlessly steeling glances while Armie's heart seemed to realize what was happening, racing a little too late but fast and painful nevertheless. He drew circles on his paper to focus the energy, knowing that now he'd have to come up with something worthy of Timmy's time now that he had finally grown the balls to ask him out. When he glanced over at him before the bell rang, Timmy's cheeks were flushed, his curls hiding the tops of his cheekbones until he turned and smiled softly at Armie. _"What?"_ he'd asked.

 _"You know what,"_ Armie had breathed, his heart still skipping like rocks on glassy water, Timmy's eyes the reflection being disrupted with each beat. Timmy laughed, his voice airy and caught up in his throat but distinctly laughter through it all as he leaned forward over his desk, eyes scattered around the room to avoid eye contact, mouth open and waiting. And Armie stared because he always stared, but this time it felt like he was allowed to, because this time, _this time_ , he knew it was okay. That Timmy liked him, too. That maybe all those nights he spent wondering weren't actually in vain at all but rather just preparation to better appreciate the tint of Timmy's eyes or the tilt of his head when he's teasing.

He pulls up to Timmy's house and fights the nausea he suddenly feels. The nerves were off the charts, more so than with anyone he'd ever so much as glanced at before. This was Timmy. _Timmy_.

Timmy who sat with him at lunch during his first day of middle school after moving. Timmy who didn't make fun of him when he confessed he maybe wanted to do something creative with his life. Timmy who came out to him in a tree house when they were thirteen because he'd just accepted it and wanted to shout it from the trees, literally. Timmy who'd fallen asleep on his floor and on his couch and had sent him books and songs and infiltrated every aspect of his life for years.

Timmy who he used to dream about without realizing what it meant. Timmy who made him chicken noodle soup that one time in eighth grade from a can because he missed a day of school. He stares at the front door he's walked through a thousand times and feels his heart race wildly in his chest.

He walks up, wipes his palms on his jeans, and knocks.

And loses his breath, instantly.

"Hey."

 

 

 

Timmy had been in love with him since they were twelve. Armie had moved into town and Timmy saw him sitting alone and felt a deep rooted pang in his chest before ever learning his name. They had pre-algebra and humanities together, and Timmy made it a point to sit by him every class. He had blue eyes that Timmy had literally cried over (but only once when he tried alcohol for the first time, in ninth grade, so did it technically count?) and a smile that made him melt. He knew exactly what to say to make him laugh, make him forget himself when he got that distant look in his eyes. He knew the tricks to take a bad day and make it one Armie talked about months, even years later as a fond memory.

Something hadn't clicked, though. Not for a long time, anyway, because it took a while for Timmy to fully realize that the tick in his breath or the ache in his veins was because he wanted _more_ when he hung out with Armie. The day he'd accepted he was into guys, he made Armie come over to his tree house and sat down cross legged beside him, eyes stuck on the wall across from them. _"Promise me you won't ever hate me."_

_"I promise, what's this about? Jesus, you know I could never."_

_"I like guys, Armie."_

And he'd sat there, terrified, for an entire three seconds before Armie wrapped him up into an awkward side hug, laughing, saying, _"Okay, that's cool."_ And Timmy said it again, then again louder, but only because it made Armie smile and shake his head, until they were both wrestling and Timmy was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, shouting it just because he could, and Armie watched him with careful eyes that made his heart clench tightly in his chest.

Still, he wasn't sure. He knew those feelings existed, but admitting to them was another thing entirely. That wouldn't happen until the ninth grade dance when Timmy saw him dancing with a girl and felt so sick that he physical had to leave, tears in his eyes, Armie running after him to push them away with his palms. He waited with him while Timmy's mom drove to pick him up, Timmy's head on his shoulder, his eyes clenched shut as the weight of years of emotional turmoil crashed over him.

He wasn't sure it would ever happen. There was one moment the summer before where Armie had gotten hard when they were swimming. Timmy had crawled up on his shoulders to push him under the water and found himself pinned against the side of the pool, his face red as he realized Armie's dick was against his, hardening slowly. Armie pulled back and never mentioned it, but Timmy had laid awake too many nights to count with the memory to completely let it go.

Still, he never expected Armie to ask him out, never like this, and never with so much confidence.

Though, that was how Armie did everything. With an air of confidence that made you wonder if he really was just that okay with who he was. Timmy wasn't even sure this was a _date_ date at first, so terrified he'd let his daydreams creep in. But Armie started texting him about where and when and how dressed up he needed to be, and when he said _goodnight_ , he sent a heart for the first time ever, and Timmy stared at his phone and sighed and smiled and fought the nervous energy at this shift he'd only dreamt of until now.

He pulls his jacket over his shirt and looks in the mirror, fixes his hair _again_ , and peaks out the window. Pauline smiles at him from his floor as the doorbell rings. "Go get 'em," she says as he passes, but he only rolls his eyes on his way with a small, shy smile. When he opens the door, he nearly falls to his knees.

"Hey," he says, eyes skimming along Armie's body, his striped sweater and tight dark jeans leaving him breathless.

"Hi," Armie smiles, hand through his hair. And Timmy feels himself starting to lose balance but catches himself on the door frame. "Oh my god, I'm so nervous," Armie laughs, ducking his head.

"Me too," Timmy nods, smiling.

Armie opens his door for him and Timmy teases him about it, relishes in the blush creeping up his neck, in the mumbled but affectionate _shut up_ Armie throws at him before shutting the door. He fidgets with his bracelet when Armie sits down and starts the car, when he messes with the radio until settling on switching to his phone where he has a playlist Timmy made him queued. Timmy watches him, wide eyes and slack jawed. "I know, I know. Don't start, okay. Save it for dinner."

"Dinner?" Timmy asks, his body warming at the familiar songs, his heart seeping into every inch of Armie's borrowed car.

"Yes, dinner," Armie smirks.

"You mean, I mean can we, you know? Be seen? Together?"

"We're always together, Timmy," Armie says, but there's an angle to it that tells Timmy he knows exactly what he means. With a sigh, he adds, "I don't care anymore, okay? I don't think I can go another day without you."

Timmy's eyes rim red and he nods, his heart filling up. "Shit man," he mumbles with a laugh. "Oh fuck. I really like you."

"I really like you," Armie says back, smile growing as he glances over, then again, and again until they're pulling up in front of the first diner Timmy ever showed him.

Timmy fidgets with his sleeves as he waits for Armie to open his door and smiles brightly when he steps out, just a little closer to Armie than necessary. "Thanks."

 

 

 

Armie was in love, he was sure of it. Timmy was telling him a story he'd miraculously never heard before and he realized _Date_ Timmy was more vibrant yet more shy than normal Timmy. He was sly in different ways, coy sometimes, but blushed more often and laughed with his mouth wide open like Armie loved. His foot would find Armie's and his hands kept brushing back his hair and Armie was _in love_ , he was sure of it. It had just taken him longer to get there.

He weighs the option of reaching out for Timmy's hand for half of dinner and finds himself daydreaming a bit too much in the silences while they eat. He wants it all, he realizes before they bring the check. He wants everything life has to offer with Timmy at his side.

They step out onto the sidewalk afterwards and Armie bites his lip, hard. Timmy's eyes are on him and he knows it, but he can't seem to shake himself of his nervous energy. It takes a hand on his bicep for him to settle, Timmy's eyes warm and trusting when he meets them. Armie feels his trepidation slip away as he pulls his hand out of his pocket to rest against Timmy's lower back. "Come on, we have a movie to catch," he says softly, walking the two of them towards the theater down the road. Timmy refuses to let him buy the tickets ("You bought dinner, come _on_ ") but lets him rest his hand on his back through the lobby and into the theater.

When they sit down, Armie feels like he's on fire. He's sat close to Timmy countless times before. He's felt him fall asleep on his shoulder, let him rest his head on his thigh. And yet this is new, because this is Timmy in a new light and Armie knows this is _different_ , because this time it _counts._

It takes half an hour for him to drown out the blaring sound of his heart racing to finally reach out towards Timmy. His eyes are glued to him as his fingers brush up against his leg, Timmy gasping lightly at the sensation. He watches Timmy adjust, his eyes flirt over to Armie's with a glint that can only mean he's okay with it. And then he feels his world shift as Timmy's hand fits into his, their fingers twisting together on Timmy's thigh. It takes longer than Armie thinks it should for his heart to settle in his chest, but Timmy's thumb is running along his palm and it feels like sparks and he loves it more than he even anticipated.

It takes another half an hour for him to start focusing on the movie, but by then Timmy's hand is on his thigh, palm up, while Armie traces the lines of his fingers to his wrist and back. His head lolls over to rest against Timmy's at some point, but returns to his upright position only a moment later when he feels embarrassed at being so affected by just being this close to him and being allowed to touch. Timmy hooks his ankle around Armie's but hides his blushing face by watching the screen as Armie stares at his profile, intoxicated entirely by the light hitting his cheekbones, nose, freckles, lips.

 

 

 

Timmy holds his hand when they leave the theater, his shoulder bumping Armie's along the path back to Armie's car. He skips ahead a step and sidesteps Armie to walk around to the driver's side to open his door, laughing when Armie grumbles over it (not that he actually minded, and Timmy knew because he couldn't hide his grin). Feeling bold, he kisses his cheek when Armie gets in the car, his ears burning and lips buzzed with energy as he pulls away to walk to his side.

He doesn't ask questions when Armie brings him to Timmy's old treehouse between their neighborhoods, or when he walks around to open Timmy's door. Not even when he holds his hand as they walk up in the glow of nearby street lights. They climb up the rungs of the latter and Timmy tucks his legs up to his chest once inside while Armie crawls up. "This is where I knew," Timmy whispers.

"Knew?"

"That I liked you," he nods.

"This is where _I_ knew," Armie smiles, sneaking closer to Timmy, his eyes brightening when Timmy laughs.

"Of course it is," he nods, leaning against Armie's shoulder. "God, I used to dream this. Every night."

"Really?" Armie asks, reaching out to pull Timmy's hand into his lap to toy with his fingers.

"Yeah, man. It was like, the deepest fantasy for you to want me back."

"The deepest?"

"Shut up," he laughs. "No judging, asshole. I just wanted you to like me."

"I did."

"Well I didn't realize that, did I?" Timmy smiles fondly at Armie as he rubs his hand between his fingers. "Feels good."

"I love your hands," Armie mumbles. "Wanted to hold them for years."

" _Fuck_ , why didn't you?"

"Nervous?" Armie lifts his palm to kiss, his eyes closing for only a moment before Timmy's hand is lowered back down and tucked into the grasp of Armie's hand. "I never knew what to feel around you. I guess I know now, but it took awhile."

"That's okay. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Armie nods. Timmy watches him consider something and feels his heart spike in speed. "Tim…"

"Yeah?" Armie glances towards him and presses his forehead against his shoulder. "Armie?"

"I really fucking like you."

 

 

Armie wants to kiss him, but doesn't know how. He isn't sure if he can just do it, or if Timmy would rather he ask first, or what. It's his best friend, he ought to know by now, but he still second guesses it and feels sick with nerves. He knows Timmy will kiss him back, can feel it in his bones. When he lifts his head, he lingers too close and feels Timmy's breath hitch as the puffs against his skin stutter then pick up, faster. "Tim," he whispers.

"Yes. Please."

And Armie finds it in himself, somehow, somewhere, to let go of everything he's known but Timmy.

His lips find Timmy's out of instinct alone and feels his body shudder on impact. His lip shakes when they part, the kiss short lived and entirely too brief. Armie smooths a hand over Timmy's hair and breathes deeply before pressing back in to remedy the situation.

The feeling of Timmy's lips is new, the taste of his tongue sending vibrations through Armie's entire body until he groans, worries about the feeling showing. He pulls back only to dive back in, his heart hammering in his chest as Timmy sighs and pulls him closer with closed fists in his shirt, his hair, lips at his jaw.

He loses time, but he never wanted it anyway if it meant being with anyone but Timmy.

 

 

It feels more electric then Timmy ever expected, ever even dreamed. By the time they settle down, he's lost all focus and relation to the outside world. He places his hands on Armie's knees to keep himself grounded and rests his forehead on Armie's shoulder until he catches his breath. They talk for an hour before Timmy starts drifting off, his eyes slipping closed as Armie toys with his hair.

They crawl down the latter and Armie catches Timmy just in case he's too sleepy to finish those last three rungs, but Timmy doesn't complain because Armie's wrapped him up in a tight embrace that ends in another kiss.

Timmy takes his hand in his when they walk back to the car, one hand tucked against Armie's while the other drifts up and down Armie's forearm to keep as much contact as possible. Once in the car, Timmy's hand rests over Armie's on the gearshift until Armie turns his hand over and squeezes periodically, sending shivers up Timmy's spine.

They make out in front of Timmy's house, the lights off as Armie presses his hand against Timmy's thigh just to see how much of it fits in his palm, whimpering at their differences as Timmy's tongue snakes around his in his mouth. Timmy relishes in the sound and places his own hand over Armie's, refuses to let him stop kissing him until they're both so breathless he fears they won't recover from the loss of oxygen. He adjusts himself in his pants and burns red when he sees Armie watch, then again when he notices Armie's in the same state.

He smiles bashfully when the cool air hits his face as Armie opens his door and takes his hand in his while they walk to his front door. Armie presses another kiss against his lips and lingers, but only for a moment before Timmy pulls back with a smile. "I had such a good time," he says, even though it's cheesy. It feels right, everything feels right.

"I did, too. I um… I'll text you when I'm home?"

"Call me?" Timmy asks, biting his lip. "I want to fall asleep to you," he admits. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, yeah definitely." Timmy can practically see Armie's heart skip. They'd done it before, laid on their own beds listening to the other drift off, and maybe Timmy really should have known Armie liked him because why would he do that otherwise?

With one more kiss, Armie's gone and Timmy is slipping upstairs into his room, floating, as he digs out a t-shirt Armie gave him last year to put on for bed.

 

 

Armie calls him when he's home and settled into bed, laughs quietly under the covers when Timmy tells him about Pauline sneaking into his room to get all the details. Timmy asks him if his parents asked, and drops the subject when Armie tells him he'll tell them soon. "I want to do this again, soon," Armie confesses, the weight of his blanket comforting him.

"Yeah, me too."

"I want it to be real though. Like I want you to be my boyfriend."

"You can't ask me that on the phone," Timmy laughs, the sound crystal and soft at the same time, Armie sinking deeper into the bed.

"But is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay, just ask me in person so I can kiss you."

"Fuck, I like kissing you," Armie sighs, turning onto his back.

"I like kissing you, too," Timmy says, and Armie can practically hear the playful smile through the phone.

They lay in silence for a while before Armie starts rambling about their next date, Timmy adding in little details until they're both drifting, breathing evening out.

"Goodnight, Timmy," Armie sighs after ten minutes of silence.

"Night, Armie." The voice is worn and warm and Armie holds it in his chest after hanging up, tucking his chin under the blankets, and drifting off to sleep.

 


End file.
